Be There Tomorrow
by myfoodisnotshared
Summary: At the end of fifth year, a notice goes up in every magical school, announcing the Intelligent Debate Exchange. Two very unlikely allies sign up - on the condition of anonymity, of course. Warning: This is Dramione.


**Summary: At the end of fifth year, a notice goes up in every magical school, announcing the Intelligent Debate Exchange. Two very unlikely allies sign up - on the condition of anonymity, of course. Hermione/Draco.**

At eight o'clock on the first day of the holidays, Hermione Granger sat down to write to a 'complete stranger' that she had probably met a dozen times at least. Her quill hovered above the page; the empty house seemed to insult her with its uninspiring silence. How to start this peculiarly new but already begun relationship, and how not to sound like Hermione Granger? She had been hoping that her pen pal would be from Beauxbatons or even Durmstrang, but the first letter had arrived written in flawless English with a reference to Hogwarts. It was a gift in a way; the Intelligent Debate Exchange was a pen pal programme for discussing magic, ideas and politics if you dared, and Victor's rough, misspelt letters had long convinced Hermione that the language barrier wasn't worth the effort.

Unfolding the now well-creased letter she had received late the night before, Hermione reread the note that had arrived with a timid, small brown owl. She had fallen in love with the little creature at first sight, and had been delighted when the bird stayed to wait for a reply. The letter itself made her smile, with its inked drawings in the margins and enthusiastic praises of the program – whilst she knew it was premature, Hermione immediately pictured a fourth year, probably one of the girls.

_Dear penpal, _it had begun, in small, elegant letters,

_I hope this letter finds you well, and still keen to join the exchange. I know I was delighted when I saw the notice! There's so little room for debate on any subject at Hogwarts, whether its theory or practical magic, and you can forget about discussing events in a rational manner. It often seems stifling, at least to me, even though it's quicker and easier to just learn by repetition. Not that I want to complain; there are many things I wish I could change about my school, but it's still my home away from home, sometimes more than that. It will be interesting, I hope, to discuss things over the summer – and it's a good way to keep in practise, because most years I just disconnect over the holidays._

_What do you like most? I'm a bit of a secret-nerd, and whilst my friends are quite library-phobic, I've always loved theory more than practise. When you're doing magic, there seems to be so many limits and closed doors, and it's always a competition to be the best. But when you're trying to work out how a spell works, why transfiguration is so complex or when is the best time to add a potions ingredient, then it's just a matter of working out the answers. I suppose charms or arithmancy are my favourite subjects, but I never liked the Transfiguration professor so it's hard to judge whether I would enjoy the subject otherwise! _

_It's late here, and I have to go. The __Dar__ return of you-know-who has caused a bit of an uproar in my family, though please, let's avoid the subject. My owl is called Twitch, you'll understand why soon enough – I've asked for her to wait for your reply in case you don't have an owl yourself, though she needs a lot of encouragement before she'll fly anywhere. And don't think owl treats will tempt her, she just takes them then flies back inside._

_My best hopes for the prosperity of your house,_

_A friend._

Hermione sighed, even more conflicted upon reading the letter again. Her new pen pal seemed sweet, honest and intelligent until the last paragraph – then Hermione couldn't help noticing the blocked out words that could once how read Dark Lord, and the traditional pureblood greeting. If her new friend didn't want to discuss the rise of you-know-who Hermione could accept that, but it made the hairs on the back of her neck stick up. For the first time, she was glad that Harry and Ron had talked her into entering the programme anonymously.

With one last glance at her pen pal's note – and the brown speck of an owl currently watching her from one of her bedposts – Hermione began her reply. It flowed quickly and easily once she had begun, and before she knew it she had covered over a foot of parchment. A little voice that sounded suspiciously like Ron whispered how annoying long letters were, but Hermione had no intention of listening to it. Her new friend was her debating partner; if he or she didn't like long letters, now was probably the right time to scare them off.

She signed the parchment, bemoaning silently how easily ink smudged without magic, before handing the letter over to Twitch the owl. Unlike with Hedwig though, Twitch let Hermione tie the scroll onto her leg, and then she put her leg back down on the bedpost. Her black eyes stared sweetly up at her owner's friend, but she didn't move a wing. Twitch, it turned out, was an ironic name, because Hermione had never seen a living creature sit so still. Hermione tried shooing her, she tried coaxing her, she even tried picking her up and holding her out the window, but the little bird just sat docile and unmoving. Once when Hermione tried to throw her into the air, Twitch turned back her little head to eye Hermione pleadingly, and she immediately lost the heart.

"Useless creature," Hermione grumbled, though a part of her admired the owl's spirit. She had all of Hedwig's intelligence and bravery, and none of her servitude to her owner. Twitch seemed to like it in Hermione's room, and so in her room she would stay. "I'm not staying with you," Hermione said, stroking the owl's soft feathers, "I have things to do in the house. And no, you can't follow me about, or the neighbours might see." Twitch didn't seem to care in the slightest, so Hermione left her and went downstairs for her breakfast. It was remarkably disorientating; in the two terms since Hermione had been at home, her mother had rearranged the kitchen, replaced the TV and added two more bookshelves. Negotiating with a stubborn owl and worrying over her pen pal's views on blood status was so much more normal to Hermione than making her own slices of toast.

Smiling, Hermione dithered about her kitchen, staring up at the summer sky. Her life had turned dark in the last few weeks – the Ministry acknowledging you-know-who's return should have been a good thing, but it had come at such an awful cost that it was no longer worth celebrating. Again and again Hermione replayed that last night in her mind, and every time she came up with new solutions, each worsening her guilt. Telling someone to think positively and accept fate was easy, doing it yourself incredibly hard. But here was a distraction, a magical and intellectual challenge – just what Hermione needed.

**A/N: This will be rushed and updated irregularly and a reflection of that ancient saying 'oh my god I have no time why am I so busy oh this really sucks.' But it will also be something I've wanted to write for a long time, and something I hope you love.**

**DON'T CLICK BACK. Consider how long it took me to write this, which was several hours. Consider the last ten minutes or so of reading you just got, free as a bird. Consider how it will take less than a minute to write a quick review. Consider that you've already wasted 30 to 40 seconds reading this A/N. Write me my goddamn review:)**


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